Owned By The Devil's Heir

The Devil in the Halls

Chapter Five – The Devil in the Halls

St. Augustine’s Academy looked like a castle carved out of stone, its spires and ivy-coated walls looming against the morning sky. Students spilled across the courtyard in uniforms that looked tailored for royalty, their chatter bright and careless.

I should have been excited. A fresh start. A chance to blend in.

But Damian’s words from the night before echoed in my mind—Never.

I clutched my books tighter and followed the headmistress inside. My mother had begged me to give this place a chance, and I wanted to. But the knot in my stomach tightened with every step.

It didn’t take long for the whispers to start.

“Isn’t she Marco Rossi’s new stepdaughter?”

“She’s… pretty. Too pretty.”

“Do you think she’s related to him?”

Him. They didn’t even need to say his name. Everyone here knew who Damian Rossi was.

I pretended not to hear, my gaze fixed on the marble floor as I was led into my first class. I slipped into a seat near the back, praying to stay invisible.

But invisible was impossible when the Devil himself walked in.

The air shifted instantly. Girls straightened in their seats, eyes wide, lips painted in perfect smiles. Boys fell silent, shoulders tense. And me? My heart stopped.

Damian strode into the room as if he owned it—because maybe, in some way, he did. He was untouchable, dangerous, magnetic. His tie hung loose, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, the faintest trace of ink peeking from beneath the fabric.

His gaze swept the class lazily… until it landed on me.

The corner of his mouth curved. Not a smile. A possession.

Heat crawled up my neck. I looked away, desperate to pretend he wasn’t there, but it was useless. His presence pressed against mine, suffocating, undeniable.

“Mr. Rossi, please take your seat,” the professor said, her voice steady but strained.

He didn’t sit in the back where his usual entourage waited. No. He crossed the room, each step deliberate, and stopped at the empty desk beside mine.

My pulse pounded in my ears. No. He wouldn’t—

He did. He sat down, leaning back casually, as if the world had just rearranged itself to accommodate him.

The girls around us buzzed, envy sharp in their eyes. I shrank in my seat, praying for the earth to swallow me whole.

“Morning, little dove,” he murmured, low enough for only me to hear.

My breath caught.

“Damian,” I hissed under my breath. “What are you doing?”

His lips tilted into that dangerous smirk. “Making sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

The room spun. Every gaze felt like a blade pressed against my skin. My classmates would hate me for this. They’d tear me apart.

And Damian… Damian was enjoying every second.